Now, I’m not one of those screw the system, give it to the man, rebellious types. I’ve never been the guy who got the watch free because of the promotion. Never knew somebody who knew somebody. I always pay retail, not because I want to, but because I have to. I even have trouble accepting free samples from people on the street corner. I’m kind of a docile little chap, brought up by a very polite English father and one hell of a German Mother. Don’t get me wrong, I can assert myself if I have to, but often I don’t have to… I usually never have to… I put myself in places where I don’t have to.

I deplore confrontation.

This being said, I’m not a moron and I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth… whatever that means. I purchased a coat two years ago from Lands End, after my roommate Rob had purchased it, because I was so impressed by an all down reversible jacket for $68. Rob, of course, had purchase the best color, yellow & black, and I was left with an all right color combination of olive & black. The color had always bothered me. The olive was really dark and basically looked black in most lighting situations and didn’t have the same punch Rob’s had. The reversibility was basically lost.

I had stuffed the coat away in storage all summer, intending to forget all about it and just buy the latest model when the winter struck. Typical American disposable culture I guess, but then it got cold (and cold fast), I panicked and donned the jacket to stave off frostbite. The utility of the jacket had won over the selfish regard for style I had imposed.

There I was, once again wearing the hideous jacket.

On my way to work a week ago, however, as I unzipped my pocket to get access to my gloves, the stitches gave out on my pocket zipper. Crap. Now I had a hideous broken jacket. Well, at least I could buy a new jacket without feeling completely guilty. Unbeknownst to me, Lands End, much like their competitors, L.L.Bean, offer an unconditional return policy on all of their products. If you are not satisfied, in anyway, by their products you can return them for a refund or replacement. I had figured that two years was too long to take advantage of this guarantee, but as I was ordering the new jacket, my sales person said, "oh, we can replace that no problem."

I was shocked. More because the sales person had suggested it than anything else. With a few questions they had sent a brand new jacket, in a completely new snazzy Orange & Dark Blue color, for me and their only request was the previous jacket to be returned. I didn’t technically get anything for free. I didn’t technically get any promotion. No "Man" was screwed, but sometimes…

Sometimes you are reminded that not everybody sucks.

The image above is a digital representation of me from LandsEnd.com in the demi-ass-cover model I received

Well, it’s about that time to go on home and prepare for an insane weekend ahead. This weekend I have been roped into acting in a movie for my friend Jay. The movie is great, but this time of year, the last thing I want to do is have a half-dozen crew members examining me through a camera lens, whilst saying things like…

“He needs more make-up”
“He’s so pale, can we use a filter?”
“Wow, she looks great… He looks pretty good”

thanks.

The up-coming months will be a mix of fear, stress, and general anxiety. The sources of these various attributes can be as simple as spending time with my family or buying christmas presents. The last thing I need is additional stresses from outside sources.

I want to hide under a rock.

What might make the whole thing oh so much more enjoyable is that, come Monday, the Metropolitan Transit Workers may strike. Walking from Brooklyn to Union Square in December may not sound like a fun idea, but let me assure you it really wont be a fun idea at 8 in the morning. I understand there are things that are wrong in the MTA, but pissing off your ridders is not the answer.

Why do people have to make this so difficult?

I am speaking to both the City of New York and Transit Workers here… Let’s stop the bullshit, charge me the $2 a ride, to pay for all your faulty republican rhetoric, and let’s get on with our lives.

Weekend Reading

When it rains in Manhattan, you avoid it. If you’re going anywhere, take the subway and do whatever you can to avoid the rain. Unless you have to go a few blocks away, then you take a cab. Unless you are a true New Yorker, then you walk. I walked. I got soaked.

There is a point at which rain is transformed from an inconvenience to a full-on nuisance. The point, for me, is when my socks get wet. When your feet get wet and cold, keeping that cheery disposition you’ve fostered all day is almost impossible. When your feet get wet, your mortality looks you in the face and says, “You are the biggest wimp; grow a set!”

Yesterday I had to get my cheap, and I like to think frugal, ass over to a photo shoot six blocks away on 20th Street. It was not me getting photographed, thank god, but I was assisting in the art direction of the shoot to suit the clients ‘vision.’ With a shoddy umbrella in hand, I decided, “hey, it’s pouring outside, but I’m a New Yorker. It’s not going to phase me.”

It phased me.

I got to the photo shoot, complaining to myself like a five-year-old begging my mother not to take me to the dentist (You know, the flailing irrational style that embarrasses child and parent alike). I entered the studio, drenched from my knees down to my socks, and got out of my wet jacket and winter gear.

“I hope I don’t get pneumonia from all this rain,” I say as I pull off my scarf. The assistant to the photographer, who I had met before, leans over to me and says, “If you don’t want to get sick, you need to take lots of vitamin C, Zinc and eat McDonald’s.”

1. Vitamin C
2. Zinc
3. McDonald’s

“McDonald’s?”

“Well, I can’t back this up with any scientific evidence, but whenever I feel like I’m going to get sick, I eat a BigMac or any other fast food beef product. I think it has something to do with all the antibiotics and hormones they give the cows, but I never get sick.”

“Really? You’re pulling my leg here, right?”

“No, even my friends eat McDonald’s when they start to get sick, and it sorts them right out.”

I thought this was fascinating. After the shoot, I went to Burger King, ordered a Whopper, and had fries to really finish whatever it was off.

I now feel like shit, but at least I know what it was that did it to me.

Yeah, I knit! You got a problem with that? How about I take this needle and…

Seasonal depression is in the wings, and this year, as with last winter, I am without cigarettes and would rather not start taking anti-depressants, so I thought, on the staunch advice of my girlfriend, to start knitting.

It’s a bit of a blow to my manhood.

Then again, I was never much of a macho man to begin with, more of a Daniel Striped Tiger, but knitting? That is dead feminine. My grandmother knit. My Mother Knit. Now I knit.

Last Friday, at the Loose Fur concert, I whipped out my wool to show my friends Steve and Amy my newest project for my sister (To be honest, it made me show them). Steve remarked…

Steve: “Um, Ben, You’re knitting.”
Me: “Yeah, isn’t it cool?”
Steve: “I think we need to go play a game of baseball and have a few beers.”
Me: “Can I bring my Needles?”
Steve: “To the game?”
Me: “Yeah, I need something to do in the dugout.”

Amy thinks it is fabulous.

I then had a thought, or more accurately expanded on an earlier thought I had, if my single male friends started knitting and went to a knitting circle or even a knitting store, they would get snatched up by women in no time (the sane ones, at least). And more to the point, when guys are single, they go to sports bars or stay home and play PlayStation. When women are single they take an art class, or learn to knit. Guys sit and fester, while women improve themselves. This is, of course, a gross over generalization, but think about it…

Would you look for a mate at a bar (who drinks a lot), or at a painting class (who is creative)?

Knitting is really relaxing. You can only do passive things while knitting, like talking, or watch tv, if that’s your thing. The reward of seeing a scarf materialize in front of your eyes is huge, and the feeling you get when you receive an item made for you from somebody… It is like wearing a constant reminder of someone’s feelings about you.

Now see if a GAP sweater made by a Chinese worker for 49 cents gives you the same feeling. (and you always wonder why you feel like a bastard in that Old Navy fleece, that’s just how Zhang Wei (??) feels about you)

You ever get the feeing that somebody has changed your coffee to decaf and everybody else knows it, except you?

Welcome to my life.

Things happened today… I know they did, but there is nothing I can write about it. I rode the subway, I worked, I might go to yoga, but there doesn’t seem to be anything worthy to write about. Maybe I need to relax.

I think I’m using the wrong multi-vitamin. It makes my pee fluorescent yellow. That’s probably it.

Snoop Dogg – Tha Shizzolator